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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217928">Another breath.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hi_exe/pseuds/Hi_exe'>Hi_exe</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Twins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:40:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,236</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28217928</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hi_exe/pseuds/Hi_exe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>L'Manberg blew up a few days ago, followed by its first president's death. </p>
<p>Technoblade only wants to see someone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>85</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Another breath.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>ONCE MORE a poor summary but i hope you will like this story as well ! </p>
<p>ITS NOT A SHIP, THEYRE BROTHERS</p>
<p>pls share this one-shot if you like it &gt;&lt;</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Where is it ?” Technoblade calmly asked in his usual monotone voice, as he faced Tubbo for an answer. </p>
<p>	The last war happened just a few days ago, and L'Manberg was slowly but surely being rebuild. The soldier didn't cared at all though, his goal being totally different. </p>
<p>	The young man, who started groing little horns, tried to stay composed in front of the giant before him. “Y-you can't just come in like this. I'm sorry, but not after everything you did.” </p>
<p>	Techno sighed a little, not wanting to have another fight about the subject when his goal was peaceful. He was about to talk when Philza walked into the conversation. </p>
<p>	His eyes were reddish, marks underneath them and eyebags he didn't have before. Signs of what recently happened. The pink-haired man was glad to have his pig mask on.</p>
<p>	“It's okay, Tubbo. He has the right to. He won't stay long, don't worry.” The blond man spoke in a reassuring yet tired tone, ruffling the boy's hair. </p>
<p>	The new president look at Techno, thinking for some seconds. “Fine, but take off your armor and give your weapons. No one will bother you and all your things will be given back when you'll leave. Deal ?” The young man proposed, nervous at the response he could get.</p>
<p>	Without hesitation, nor any words, Technoblade obeyed, almost throwing his things on the floor. “Now, where ?” He asked, no patience left anymore. </p>
<p>	Tubbo moved out of the way while Philza walked towards a path, his son following behind.<br/>	No words were exchanged, a comfortable and familiar silence taking place between the two as  the only sound was of their footsteps. They quickly arrived at their destination, Phil immediately looking away and leaving Techno alone.</p>
<p>	The soldier didn't mind, understanding why he acted like this. He slowly approached a single tree, proudly standing on the battlefield. A survivor of the explosion. </p>
<p>	In front of it, a single grave stood there, presents and pictures all around it. Belongings from a far past, or just some weeks ago. </p>
<p>	Technoblade's breath hitched a little as he fought back the feelings he tried to avoid since this peculiar day. He bit his lips to restrain himself from making a sound. </p>
<p>	With a deep sigh, he slowly sat in front of the stone, taking off his mask to reveal his face covered in scars, little fangs coming out of his lips, and bright blue eyes running away from what was before them. Red marks were all around his tired eyes, the same as Philza's. </p>
<p>	He let out a shaky breath, taking little blue and pink flowers out from a black hidden bag, gently putting them around the gifts. </p>
<p>	“Blue, for the story you once told me...” Technoblade let out in a whisper, recalling their childhood. Wilbur once told him that blue could suck sadness out of people. The pink-haired man wanted to try this, now that he had a reason to. </p>
<p>	“...and pink, for the hair you once loved taking care of.” Little lines of pink made their way into the soldier's view, not bothering to put them back behind his pointy ear. </p>
<p>	Another deep and shaky breath, blood starting to draw its way from a lips towards a chin. </p>
<p>	Techno was biting his lip so hard now, fangs percing the skin and blood entering his dry mouth. Blood is better than tears, he reminds himself, not wanting to be seen crying about what he never interrupted. </p>
<p>	His blue eyes, with a slight shade of red, were wattery though. </p>
<p>	Another breath. </p>
<p>	A hesitant hand made its way toward the stone, caressing it lightly, the cold almost burning his fingertips. </p>
<p>	Another breath. </p>
<p>	 He moved closer towards the grave, his whole palm on the cold material, his forehead joining in and leaning into the contact. </p>
<p>	(He remember their foreheads touching in the dead of night. The warmth of the contact as their hands joined under the cover. A rituel they did hundreds of time, when both were uncomfortable in the dark of their shared room. </p>
<p>	He could hear his twin singing softly, a lullaby he created. </p>
<p>	Tears stopped as the voice started fading. Techno was sinking into Morpheus' arms, joining his brother until Phil's soft touch would awake them.)</p>
<p>	Another breath, joined with a salty taste alongside the metalic one. Quiet sobs came out of the soldier's mouth, as he stopped trying to hide his pain and sorrow.</p>
<p>	Technoblade cried in front of Wilbur's grave, touching the cold stone with his forehead and hand, longing for a warm touch he will never feel again. </p>
<p>	He felt like screaming at the stone, knowing very well that the dead man won't hear it. </p>
<p>	He felt like destroying the stone, along with the gifts and belongings around it. But it won't change a thing. </p>
<p>	He wants warm arms around his shoulders. </p>
<p>	He wants dark hair tickling his face, a sweet voice singing a comforting lullaby. </p>
<p>	None of those will happen again. Only memories of it remained. </p>
<p>	He sobs more and more, letting his tears fall on the ground, on the flowers, on the grave. </p>
<p>	His own sounds, that he hated more than anything, were covering the sounds of the tree's leaves moving. </p>
<p>	(A transparent yellow figure was sitting on one of the branches, looking around at a deep hole, then at the sobbing man under it. </p>
<p>	It felt...familiar to it. The figure stood up, jumping on the grass with no sound, before silently walking towards the pink-haired man.)</p>
<p>	Another breath. </p>
<p>	Technoblade stood away from the grave, silently sitting down again. </p>
<p>	The salty pearls were still rolling down his cheeks, mixing with the blood, cleaning the lip and chin, before disappearing on the man's clothes. </p>
<p>	Another breath. </p>
<p>	(The pale figure was standing behind the soldier, a strange feeling of deja-vu rising in his mind. </p>
<p>	He wanted to sing. </p>
<p>	He wanted to touch the pink hair. </p>
<p>	He wanted to take the man's hand in his.</p>
<p>	He wanted to feel warmth.)</p>
<p>	Techno stayed like this for some minutes in silence, his blue eyes, marked with red, locked on the name on the grave. </p>
<p>	(Another breath.)</p>
<p>	He quickly turned around, ready to fight whoever was interrupting him during his quiet moment of peace. </p>
<p>	Tired brown eyes met puffy blue ones. </p>
<p>	(A tear started falling when the man turned towards the figure.</p>
<p>	It wanted to jump on him, wrapping protective arms around shacking shoulders, whispering a lullaby long forgotten in a pointy ear.)<br/>	A hand covered in scars tried going forward, desperately obeing a shattered heart, as tears threatened to fall even more. </p>
<p>	The silence between them was almost religious, both too afraid to break this sacred moment. </p>
<p>	Their eyes were locked. </p>
<p>	(He took a step forward, a hand going forward to touch the other in a familiar scene.)</p>
<p>	Time was frozen around them. Nothing other than their hands existed, with the pleading want of a warm touch. </p>
<p>	(He took a step forward, quickly forgetting the hand to go embrace the man behind it.)</p>
<p>	Clingy hands took place behind his head and back, a faint music starting in his ear. </p>
<p>	He doesn't feel warmth from the touch. He felt a deadly cold.</p>
<p>	(He doesn't feel cold, but a welcoming and missing warmth long gone.</p>
<p>	Arms closed on his back, hugging back with a hum.)</p>
<p>	Silence overwhelmed the scene. </p>
<p>	None of them wanted to stop this moment, nor did they wanted to be apart again. </p>
<p>	Another breath.</p>
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